Fight or Flight
by Bleve
Summary: Survive. Leaving was a bid for her sanity, and she knew she had to get away from him. Even if some twisted part of her just wanted to stay. AU. Post-Avengers.
1. Flight

**A/N** - Just a little one-shot that popped into my head and begged for release. As it stands, I have material for another chapter, but I'm not sure that I want to post it. I am torn between leaving this at its angsty logical end, or pushing it further. So, when in doubt, ask for some opinions. The feedback would be greatly appreciated!

**Disclaimer** - I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story. They are the property of Marvel Studios.

* * *

Murky and unsettled, glimpses of the passing cityscape through the dirty bus' windowpane were like a reflection of her own conflicted, jumbled feelings. Space and time, she repeated to herself, a pathetic mantra she was using to try and convince herself that she had made the right choice. It had been almost too easy, to creep away like the defeated coward that she was. No intricate planning on her part, just a simple excuse, a lunch errand that Darcy would not return from. Somehow, she knew if she had attempted something more intricate, he would have found it out. There was no pulling the wool over those piercing blue eyes.

Not that she intended to stay away forever, but things here, as they were right now, were just too much. Two years, and still New York was recovering in the wake of an invasion that had nearly destroyed the world. It was wonderful that the reconstruction effort was going well, and the recent addition of a remorseful and "redeemed" catalyst had even sped up the rebuild. Really, that had been a whole new problem—not for the planet, or even the citizens of the Empire State; but rather, a personal one, for her and her alone.

A complication. That was what he had referred to her as when his not-so-subtle not-so-brother had put his princely nose in business that really did not concern him. Surprisingly, she had not felt contempt or anger at the description. It was accurate, even if it was not flattering, and she was impressed that the truth could come from his lips. She had initially chosen to steer very much clear of the "gods" when they had returned to her planet bearing news of penance and peace offerings. Jane, however, had not, and so she had become somewhat begrudgingly stuck. Over time, being in their company had become less forced and more her choice, and though Thor swore that his brother's powers were limited, she really wanted to blame magical mind control for her lack of distance.

He was right, through and through. What they were doing, teetering along some dangerous edge, it was complicated, and beautiful, and terrifying. In her alone moments, she had often tried to reconcile what they were doing with what she was feeling, and it never made any sense. In a way, she could finally understand, could recognize the reason behind Jane's reluctance to refer to Thor as anything other than her "friend." A title made things too real, especially when you were dealing with supposedly mythical creatures. Aesir were magnetic, dynamic—they were kindred spirits of the stars that they fell from. You were pulled to them, in a slowly magnificent, careening orbit that ultimately led to your oblivion. But, Darcy, she knew. She saw herself drifting towards him haplessly, aware that he was dangerous. It was well past time to break free of his gravity.

Her eyes focused out of the window, realizing that the scenery was no longer moving. Startled, she looked to her right, and noticed that her fellow passengers were frozen—not iced over, but unmoving. Jumping to her feet, she cleared the empty seat, rushing towards the front of the bus. A flash of green moved in her periphery and she sighed. Nothing for Darcy was ever easy, and she did not know why she had thought her escape would be.

That voice, smooth and deadly, one that simultaneously made her stomach lurch and heart race, came from behind her. "You go to great lengths to eat."

"There are a lot of nice lunch spots in Queens."

"The place and its name are an ill-fit match."

The condescending sarcasm in his voice could not be missed, and she turned to look at him as he glanced disdainfully around the vehicle. His eyes finally rested on her, "What are you doing, Darcy?"

She refused to meet his gaze, her eyes focusing on the increasingly interesting advertisement behind him. "Taking the bus, obviously."

His lips pursed in a thin line. "The bus to where?"

"LaGuardia."

The sneer was prominent on his face and totally unexpected. Dismissal, mirth, laughter...she would have expected any and all of those. Anger? That was a surprise.

"You would leave without saying goodbye?" he growled.

He really was pissed, and she had no idea why he thought he had any right to be. It aggravated her, and she was going to make sure he knew it. "Last time I checked, a grown woman could come and go as she pleases."

"And what of Jane and Thor? Or do you wish to make them sick with worry?"

Appealing on her friend's behalf was both a low blow and a red herring, so she brushed it off quickly. "I would have gotten a hold of her eventually."

Now, he looked livid, his fingers digging into his palms as he spastically clenched his hands. "And you can think of no one else that would have suffered in your absence?"

There, he had said it. The worm-in-the-words, the bait that he sought to hook her with; but, she was not biting today. Cold, she let her voice fill with the ice in her heart, "No."

A lurch, both mechanical and cosmic, and she stumbled, her eyes closing in fear of the collision with the dirty floor. Suddenly, she was back in her seat, and when she looked out the window, they were pulling onto the airport roadway. Snapping her head, she rose slightly in the chair, looking around for any sign that the encounter had been real, but he was nowhere to be seen. Being in her thoughts was one thing, but now, it seemed she was having lucid hallucinations about the infuriating bastard. She really did need to get away.

The bus slowed to a stop, and people began getting up, milling towards the exit. She waited, still not quite believing she had managed a getaway, as the last passenger filed past her. She heard the bus driver cough as his eyes fell on her in the rear-view mirror, an action she recognized as the international motion for "hurry the hell up." She glanced over her shoulder briefly while scurrying down the aisle, practically throwing herself through the open bus door.

The moment her shoes hit the pavement, she knew it was wrong. So very wrong. Somehow, she was back in Manhattan, and she had the sneaking suspicion that the "how" involved one manipulative, malcontent Aesir. She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and hanging her head in frustration, as her ears barely registered the childish snicker above the din of the bustling city. To her left, the asshole leaned against a lightpost as he mocked her, passersby strolling right by him, magically oblivious to his overbearing presence.

She snapped, sheer irritation and fury fueling her forward to strike at him. Her hand longed to connect with his smug cheekbone, but it passed right through him. "Of course, you wouldn't bother to actually annoy me in person."

The air crackled with heat and mystic electricity, and she tried to run, thinking better of having opened her mouth, but her feet wouldn't budge. It seemed that hundreds of lanky, dark-haired spectres appeared from all directions, converging into one in a spot directly in front of her. Why had she taunted him?

He looked at her from head to toe, fondling her with icy eyes in a way that made her burn and blush in the same instant. He brushed his fingers along her cheek, as she stood paralyzed by magic and lust, tinged with fear. "Sending out my projections was the quickest way to search for a misplaced possession, and I found her quite easily."

Her lips moved at least. "I am not yours."

He hesitated for just a moment, before commanding her. "Then take your pathetic life and walk away, but you need not run from New York. I will not have Thor blaming me for your disappearance. You will never have to see me again."

Maybe it was the sound of defeat in his voice when he spoke, or the sigh that seemed to escape with the words, but they made her pause, even as she felt her feet begin to respond. "This wasn't what I wanted, Loki."

His eyes met hers then, and somehow she managed to hold his gaze without turning away. "What did you want, Darcy?"

She started to speak, but he cut her off, running his fingers along her forearm. "There was no other way but for this to meet its inevitable end. There were only two eventual outcomes: the tardy arrival of your self-preservation instincts or my boredom with a mortal dalliance."

There was the truth again, and for once, she did not like it. She seethed in disgust, speaking through gritted teeth. "Right. Stupid or unworthy, either way."

The smile, full and almost believably genuine, arranged itself on his handsome face, and she could feel herself crumbling. "The truth is often more brutal than hundreds of falsehoods. Would you prefer for me to lie to you?"

She shook her head, pleading silently for him to cease. But, he continued, his voice growing harsh, "I could deceive you; your kind believe so easily. Weave you stories of how I would carry you to Asgard and make you my wife. Pluck down for you one of Idun's apples**,** and let you chew upon immortality. That I would devour your body every night and give you many children. How I would worship you as a goddess and fill your days with happiness and love."

She gasped as his breath tickled her temple, his arms circling her waist, constricting slowly like the snake he was. Seductively, he purred, "But, you deserve honesty, my dearest Darcy. And all that I had ever wanted from you...I have already gotten."

Tears, that she had banished and swore she would never shed for him again, ran down her cheeks in defiance of her own wishes. Now, she was ready to go. She put her hands behind her on his wrists, pulling him off of her waist. He looked at their connection impassively, as if he understood. She stepped back, narrowing her eyes and lifting her chin, "Then, there is no need for this to continue. I am done."

"You are only done because I allow it to be so."

"No. It ends on my terms. I refuse to give so much, and get nothing in return."

"So, there has been no enjoyment on your part?"

He sounded incredulous, and the blood that rushed to her cheeks exposed her in a way that she could not recover from. "Sexual satisfaction is great but it is not enough...not once..." she swallowed, choosing her words carefully, "Not now."

"But it is all I can give you, Darcy. No more and no less."

His face crumpled then, his eyes turning downward. "Only a true monster would speak otherwise, and even I cannot bring myself to tell that particular lie."

Her lip trembled and she felt her resolve diminish. These were the times when she hated herself, loathed the part of her that collected and coveted wounded things. She had not come such a long way from the little girl who brought home limping dogs and birds with broken wings. Some things never changed.

"I know," she whispered, and her arm crossed the space between them, her hand resting on his face. "And there have been times when I wished I could settle for what you are offering."

His eyes were wide, startled by her admission. His fingers found her elbow, ghosting up her arm to caress her hand as it laid on his cheek. "Never settle, Darcy. For anyone."

She nodded as her voice cracked. "Goodbye, Loki."

"Goodbye, Darcy."

She pulled away, walking instinctively towards her apartment, her eyes blinded with fat tears that rolled down her face. She did not have the strength or the nerve to look over her shoulder to see if he was behind her still. In all things, behind her was where he belonged.


	2. Fight

**A/N** - Not sure if this is the end. In some ways, it feels very final, and in other ways, not so much. I will say that for those of you who felt there was absolutely no hope at the end of the first chapter, you may feel slightly encouraged now.

**Disclaimer **- I do not own any of the characters portrayed in this story. They are the property of Marvel Studios.

* * *

So many stars, they punctured the veil of the cool, quiet night as she drove, ever onward. A siren crooned to her through the speakers in the dashboard, soothing her jittery nerves as the GPS device confirmed that she had just a few more miles to go. Lana Del Ray had always been one of her favorites, and on this night, "Ride" had an entirely eerie and poignant meaning. Her trip had been both complex and lengthy—a cab, two planes, and finally, a rental car. Such a vast distance had been traveled, but she was very close and the end was in sight.

She lost herself in the music, humming along while focusing on the uneven desert surface that she cruised carefully over. The tiny screen flashed, alerting her that she had reached her desired coordinates. Such seemingly unimportant numbers filled the display, 35º 23' 4" -106º 0' 13", and yet they were something substantial and meaningful to her. A point of divergence, they marked the spot where the tide of her life had turned.

She brought the car to a stop, cutting the engine and headlights off, as she gave her eyes several minutes to adjust to the darkness. Luckily, an almost full moon hung in the sky, and she could make out the shapes of a few cacti and shrubs that resided here. She slid the car door open, her feet denting the sandy ground on which she stood. Tranquil and undisturbed, this place was the complete opposite of her existence since Thor had fallen from this very sky.

She crawled onto the trunk of the car, leaning back against the glass of the rear window. The slope of the sedan was not completely comfortable, but a back pain or two would be worth this breathtaking view. Thousands of twinkling lights dazzled her, shimmering and trembling in a dance of brilliance, as the moon, in all its rounded glory, seemed a heavenly ballet mistress. The show the night sky provided was not her reason for coming here; it was just an awesome bonus, and she would enjoy it no less.

Alone, she thought, and she should enjoy the peace while it lasted. She was steeped in solitude out here amongst the barren land, and that was nothing new. An only child, a dork in high school, a loner in college—she had always kept to herself, counting her cleverness and devil-may-care nature as her only necessary companions. That had been the status quo until Jane and her project. At one time, she had believed in coincidences, but now, she knew better. The Vikings once thought that "gods" walked amongst them, but it was all a matter of perspective. Aliens existed, other worlds existed, and coincidences were just fate's means to lie.

Clearly, for whatever reason, she had been placed upon a path; and she would follow it, while remaining true to herself. Growing up, her father had read to her from books by Tolstoy and Thoreau, and his favorite quote had been the work of Emerson. She could still hear his voice calling to her during important moments, "Life is a journey, not a destination." When he passed, she had made sure it was inscribed on his headstone, and than she had it tattooed over her heart. And, most certainly, her recent life had been one _hell_ of a journey.

A gentle breeze shifted a few errant curls down across her face, and she reached to corral them. Instead, pale and perfectly manicured fingers flashed in her periphery as they brushed her temple and tucked the wayward strands behind her ear.

"Did I not tell you to stay in New York?"

Rich and warm, a symphony to her heart, his voice awoke things deep within her. Remembering to breathe, she smiled but it did not reach her eyes. "If I did so, you never would have come out of hiding."

A flash of amusement lit his face, but a determined scowl quickly replaced it. "Hiding? I've simply been honoring our arrangement. Which you have decided to nullify by coming here."

The past few weeks had been entirely Loki-free, but they had not necessarily been easy. At first, she had resigned herself to misery, but she had always been self-indulgent, and eventually, she succumbed and accepted her weakness for him. She was fairly certain that missing him entitled her to one membership in the bat-shit insane club, but, God help her, she had missed him. At some very weak point, she had even begged Thor to intercede on her behalf. But, Loki had stayed gone, true to his word. She realized it was going to take drastic measures to get him to come out, and she had been right. Leaving had defied him, and the destination mattered not; she knew he would chase her. But, hopefully, he appreciated her choice of venue.

"What arrangement? I seem to remember you ordering me to stay, like some kind of aimless puppy dog, but I don't recall agreeing to do so."

"Yet you did not make any quarrel at the time. Silence is acceptance as far as I am concerned."

Rolling her eyes, she took a dig. "Well that definitely explains a few of your issues."

He shot her a dubious glare, but she continued without missing a step. "Why does it matter anyway? I made sure that Jane and Thor knew where I was going. Nothing was blamed on any arrogant princes."

"New York is safe. The city is protected."

"I can protect myself," she offered, patting her trusty taser as it rested in her jacket pocket.

"You have no idea the depth of stupidity in that statement. There is so much that you cannot possibly fathom…"

She screamed. A loud, piercing wail of frustration that made her lungs burn. "Don't you dare tell me how stupid…"

His hand grasped her chin roughly to silence her. "By all that I have ever known, in the eons that I have walked, you are, by far, the most infuriating. In New York, I can keep you safe."

His jaw trembled, in rage or fear she knew not, and she tried to put space between them, but his grip was firm, unyielding. In the pale light of the moon, he looked half mad and half terrified, two sides of the same complex coin. He hissed, "Will you bother to think for just a moment, Darcy?"

Her mouth usually worked before her brain, often to her detriment. She snorted, rolling her eyes, "Apparently, thinking is out of my comfort zone."

He shook his head, dismissing her pissy comeback. "Try to follow this. There are things out there that terrify me."

Goosebumps rose on her flesh as the grim fact of his statement could be read all over his breathtaking face. Her eyes widened, sheer dread dilating her pupils. He was absolutely telling her the truth, Loki was afraid.

"That is right, silly girl. Grotesque, maleficent beings that would not hesitate to ruin anything that I held dear."

Suddenly, the idea of coming here, alone, to the blessed middle of nowhere, seemed like a very bad idea. She tensed, considering her words, "I'm sorry, Loki."

He seemed not to hear her. "There are stories I could tell you, of my time between worlds, on just what these beasts can do. Imagine what agony they would unleash on a human, especially one ignorant enough to find herself in this place."

She must have looked confused, because he read her easily. He gestured with his hands to their surroundings, and his tone took on a softness, as if he were explaining something to a child, "There are nine separate realms, and one cannot travel between them without potent magics. But, there are areas in each where the boundaries run close together; still unconnected, though the distance between them is smaller. This desert is such a place, and by being here, you would make their task so much easier for them. It is like a baby doe taunting a wolf into eating her."

She shivered, her mind running in terrifying circles. She had an all-too-capable imagination. "I did not realize."

"Of course you did not realize!" he roared, the sound making her tremble even harder, "There is so much that you do not understand, and yet, you brashly make decisions. Fear the monsters that I speak of, Darcy, and there may yet be hope for you."

He smiled slightly then, one that made the hair on her neck stand on end. His voice dropped, continuing as he murmured, "You would be wiser still to fear the monster who heralds them. You may have told Jane and Thor of your plans, but I told no one of mine."

She swallowed nervously, her throat more parched than the desert that she sat in. "I am afraid of many things, but not you."

"That is, by far, your most tragic mistake yet. You really have no idea just how horrible a creature I am."

She shivered, realizing how true that was. She did not know very much about him, and almost all of her information had been supplied by a badgered god of thunder. He intrigued and haunted her in ways that drove her nearly mad, and she intended to get some sort of answer. She pointed at herself, tapping her chest with an index finger, "I'm stupid, remember?"

He rolled his eyes. "You seem to go out of the way to prove it, time and time again."

"You know, contrary to your belief, I'd like to think that for a dreaded Midgardian," she drawled the word out in a mockery of his own voice, "I am pretty smart."

"Then I should take pity on your blighted race."

Laughter, deep from within her belly, erupted from her, almost maniacal in its rhythm. His eyebrows rose, a clear indication that he thought she had finally gone crackers. She managed to get something out, "Maybe so, but I'm not the one who just admitted that they care about a puny mortal."

"I used no such words," he spat.

She had finally tricked the trickster, and he was not going to take that victory from her without a fight. She shot him an unconvinced glare, "Fine. You hold me 'dear.'"

She was just ending her smart-ass air quotes when he grabbed her shoulders, twisting her upper body almost painfully towards him, and their faces met just centimeters apart. "Do not trivialize my confession, Darcy. You know not how much it costs me."

How dare he presume to know her thoughts. Inferiority and anger made her blood boil, and she growled, "I think I understand exactly what it costs you and your precious ego."

A smooth chuckle escaped him then, and it sounded so lovely that she wanted to cry tears of joy at having being graced by its cadence. "You are wrong if you think my affection for you somehow wounds my pride. I am a liar, a traitor, a killer—the bastard son of an evil monster and the outcast son of a master manipulator. I have no pride left."

They stared at one another, neither backing down in their ferocity. She waited, bracing herself for some sort of scathing insult from his unscrupulous tongue. Minutes passed, and she finally found the nerve to ask, "Then what else could it cost you?"

"My remaining sliver of sanity. Being associated with me is dangerous—if you can understand nothing else, please grasp that. I can not allow any harm to come to you; I could not bear it."

In one moment, with one sentence, she understood all of it. His aloofness, the front he put out to shield him, everything finally made sense. "You son of a bitch."

He looked surprised by her outburst, but she had just put all her puzzle pieces together, realizing Loki's many motivations, both noble and nefarious. She brushed his hands off of her, stumbling away, eventually righting herself on the ground beside the car. Words tumbled from her lips, enlightened but angry, "That is why you pushed me away? For my own safety!?"

He sneered half-heartedly, like he had tasted rotten food, "Yes. Being tied to me will only lead to your death, Darcy. Please…"

His eyes pleaded with her as he continued, turning his vicious tongue on himself. "What can I offer you? A life lived in fear of reprisal for my tumultuous past, for eons of misdeeds? Even a human deserves better than that."

His final words to her during their last encounter echoed through her thoughts. Over and over, they mocked her…"Never settle." Under a guise of apathy and cruelty, he had driven her away, claiming disinterest while hiding the truth. And still, he would cut her with more words, reminding her of her inherent nature and flaw. "Is that all you see when you look at me?"

His gaze came to her then, and he looked her straight in the eye. "I see what should have been an insignificant stitch in the rich tapestry that has been my life. And yet, it only takes the one to unravel it all."

She let him brood as her feelings roiled inside of her. Contempt, love, grief...so many battled within that she barely knew herself, and eventually, indignation won out. "You think you have the right to decide what is best for me, to manipulate me with lies and half-truths that suit your perceived notions of what is 'safe' and 'deserved.' Does that not sound familiar to you, Loki? He may not be your father, but you and Odin are cut from the same controlling cloth."

Metal groaned and squealed as an angry god put his hand through the trunk of her rental car; no doubt she was going to lose her deposit. The look on his face would have turned Medusa to stone, the rage and savagery exposed for anyone to see. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced with a grim look of remorse. "As much as it disturbs me to admit it, you are right, Darcy."

Four little words had never sounded so weighty to her ears. Somehow, they were right up there with "Here's the key to my place" or "I do." She did not know how to respond to a reasonable Loki. She shuffled back and forth on her feet, eventually taking a seat back on the edge of the trunk.

He jumped down off of the car, coming over slowly to stand in front of her. His voice wavered slightly as he continued, "In my haste to decide what is best for your future, I made the same mistakes and committed the same slights that others have done to me. I am sorry."

Now, she really was at a loss. Coherency and speech were beyond her, her mouth hanging open uselessly in surprise. Shock allowed his apology to sink in, and it soothed her jagged emotions. He smiled at her, a very Cheshire Cat like grin, while using a finger to gently lift her jaw closed. Six-plus feet of contrite immortal loomed over her, and she had to resist the urge to grab him by the ears and kiss him, hard. He took a step back before speaking, "Come, Darcy. Let's return home."

"My place or yours?" she said with a small smile, hoping to convey the message that she wanted to spend more time with him. She had no idea where things stood between them, but the day's revelations made her feel the tiniest bit hopeful; and like an addict, she had no shame in admitting that she needed more.

He shook his head, "Both. You to yours and I to mine."

"That is not what I want to hear," she pouted.

"Be that as it may, it is what will happen. We enjoyed an unemotional entanglement, and that, for many reasons, is no longer possible. I will not continue to put you in danger."

He offered his hand to her, outstretched. It was a friendly gesture, but also a way to travel, and so their story was not at an end. She refused to believe it over, no matter his decision, and she murmured, "A journey...not a destination."

He said nothing in response, but his eyes were locked on their hands as she slipped her shorter fingers into his, intertwining them. She thought he looked uncomfortable, and she had to restrain a chuckle. He pulled her close, wrapping his other arm around her, "I am sure that I need not remind you to hold tight."

A giggle managed to escape her, and he gave her an odd stare. "No…" she smiled widely, batting her eyelashes at him, her voice a little husky, "I definitely will not let you go."

He gave her one more queer look, before she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. She felt a pull as the universe divided and opened, and he took them home.


End file.
